Uncle Mycroft: The Series
by terrified
Summary: A collection of one-shots or drabbles, chronicling the wonder that is Mycroft Holmes in the role of uncle to Sherlock and Molly's children.
1. Files

_**A/N:** Uncle Mycroft is my everything :3 _

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**Files**

The hotel was beautiful. Almost overwhelmingly beautiful. It was lavish, both on the outside and on the inside. This afternoon, however, nothing was more overwhelming than the rows of special armed force units, sniffer dogs and every kind of security personnel one could imagine.

The first to face this line of fire was a couple in their mid-thirties. The gentleman was pushing a pram with a sleeping infant inside, whilst the lady carried a ruddy-faced three-year old who had in his hand a small present wrapped in red and gold.

"Surname?" asked the officer who stepped up to meet them.  
"Goldspink…" muttered the father, a little overwhelmed by the stoic stares of the uniformed personnel around him.  
"And your names, sir and madam?"  
"Roger Goldspink…and this is my wife…"  
"Claire," the lady continued, "Claire Elizabeth Goldspink."  
"Claire Elizabeth…nee Harris?"  
"Yes, that's right."  
"Good, names are all in order." said the officer, "Now, can I see your papers please?"  
"Of course…" answered the lady, reaching into her coat pocket and producing an envelope.  
"Thank you very much, Madam,"

The officer deftly opened the already opened envelope and removed the A5-sized card within it. He flipped the card open, careful not to spoil it and spotted the barcode beneath the written contents. Turning to an officer who stood beside him, he presented the card to the officer, who promptly produced a scanning device of some sort. He ran the device over the barcode and within seconds, a beep was heard.

"All right, the paperwork is in order. Please proceed through there, all your belongings will be x-rayed, just for security clearance. Your cooperation is appreciated." the officer said, ushering the little family unit through the hotel's grand doors.

This went on as the guests came streaming in. Their names were verified, papers were scanned, belongings were x-rayed. By the time the guests made it through the hotel doors and up to the little function room where they were expected, they were somewhat frazzled by the fastidious security checks they had had to go through.

"We…are…_never_… asking Mycroft for help again, even if it means not getting a reservation at our favourite hotel," Molly muttered to Sherlock between gritted teeth after having apologised to the _nth_ guest of the day for their arduous journey into little Stella Holmes' first birthday party.

Eventually, the guests settled in, calming down and livening up after their epic journey to what was a delightfully simple children's birthday party. As the party unfolded, it brought smiles to Molly's, and even Sherlock's, faces as they watched the little children play, tossing balloons in the air and begging their mums and dads for just "one more eclair, Mummy!", or "one more iced bun, Daddy!"

However, no sight brought them more delight than that of Mycroft Holmes, the Head of the British Secret Service and of basically every government department in the country, sitting calmly beside the highchair of their giggling one-year old. They laughed as the little girl offered him a half eaten rusk, igniting a smile on her uncle's face as he graciously leaned over and pretended to take a bite of her biscuit. They watched as Mycroft responded with an earnest, _Thank you very much, Stella_, before popping a little kiss on her tiny forehead.

"I can't believe this is the same man who had this entire hotel swept for bombs…" Molly said with a chuckle. Sherlock smirked and put his arms around his wife as he turned to kiss _her_ on her forehead.  
"Well, I can," Sherlock replied. "And believe me, he's already planning next year's…"  
"Oh god, you're not serious?" Molly exclaimed, turning to look up at Sherlock.  
"I never joke, Molly," Sherlock answered, "And neither does Mycroft when it comes to Stella."

Molly laughed, shaking her head.

"What are we ever going to do with you, Uncle Mycroft?" Molly remarked with a warm smile in the direction of her brother-in-law.  
"I'm afraid there's nothing we _can_ do," Sherlock said, shrugging.

The couple observed Mycroft again. This time, he was pretending to sip tea out of an imaginary teacup that Stella had offered him. He sipped it and remarked, _What delicious tea_…, which in turn ignited a peal of laughter from the little girl.

"You know how you have that list? That wish list of sorts…for Stella?" Sherlock asked Molly.  
"Yes. What about it?" asked Molly whipping her head round to face him.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he tilted his head in the direction of his brother.

"Mycroft has a file…or two." said Sherlock matter-of-factly, while Molly's jaw quite literally dropped to the floor.

**END**


	2. Safe

_**A/N: **Uncle Mycroft continues to be my everything... :3_

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**Safe**

"Sherlock?" said Molly as she peered outside their flat window at Baker Street.

"Hmm?"

"Why has Mycroft sent more security?Why are all his top plainclothes agents "having tea" at Speedy's downstairs?" she asked.

They were briefly interrupted by the coos of their one-year old daughter who, while balanced on Molly's hip, found her mother's loose plait most enticing and attempted to chew it. Sherlock smiled as he watched Molly wrestle her plait out of their baby's hands in amusement.

"Has something happened?" Molly asked again, "There's enough security here to rival the armed guards at Buckingham."

Sherlock smirked as he folded his newspaper, placing it on the table beside him. He strode over to where his wife stood and reached for his daughter. The little girl leaned over happily to her father and very gladly let herself be carried by him.

Molly smiled at the sight and took the opportunity to adjust her hair.

"So?" she asked.  
"What?" he responded.  
"Why the sudden addition of security? As though we hadn't enough before?"  
"Mycroft's abroad," Sherlock answered casually.

Sherlock lifted Stella high up into the air, much to her delight, and brought her back down into a tight cuddle. Molly, however, was frowning at her husband's words.

"So what if he's gone abroad?" she asked, folding her arms in curiosity.  
"Well, you know my brother…" Sherlock said, locking eyes with his daughter as he made a silly face at her.

Little Stella smiled and tugged at her father's collar, igniting a smile on Sherlock's face.

"He'd much prefer to keep an eye on Stella himself," Sherlock continued, "And when he can't, well…"

The detective tilted his head in the direction of their flat window and smirked. Molly smiled, and nodded in understanding.

"He's so extravagant, isn't he?" Molly remarked to Stella as she stepped forward to kiss her daughter's cheeks, "But we do love our Uncle Mycroft. No one cares for us like he does."

The little girl chuckled at her mother's kiss and both parents smiled. It was good to feel safe. Sherlock was not the gambling sort, but he would have bet that at that very moment, they were quite possibly, the safest household in the country, and possibly the world.

**END**


	3. Taking A Stand

_**A/N: **I have to thank **likingthistoomuch** for inadvertently inspiring this drabble from a previous review left on my Uncle Mycroft series XD Uncle Mycroft is my love and my life! Yay! XDDD_

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Taking A Stand

"Mr Holmes?"

The room went silent as all heads turned to face the one seated at the head of the large oval conference table.

"Sir?" Anthea whispered, nudging her boss gently on the elbow.

He ignored both the call of his name and the nudge from Anthea as his brows furrowed in concern while peering at his phone.

"Mr Holmes, we need to know whether or not you approve of this motio—"

"No…" Mycroft interrupted.

The minister who had just spoken raised a quizzical eyebrow at Mycroft's interruption.

"No…" Mycroft continued, staring down at his screen, "This simply won't do."

"Sorry, ladies and gentlemen," Anthea said, smiling and addressing the ministers around them before turning to whisper to her boss, "What won't do?"

Mycroft Holmes responded by rising suddenly to his feet, his phone still firmly in front of his face.

"It's been three days now, and there's been no improvement. Clearly, their paediatrician is useless. Send my medical team straight to Baker Street, Anthea, and arrange for the jet to take me back to London. I need to see to this personally."

"But we need your stand on the—"

"My stand is whatever will let me get home to London without any delay or trouble. Good day." Mycroft interrupted, before striding out of the conference room.

Anthea rose awkwardly to her feet, clearing her throat as she faced the shocked and rather irate assembly of European ministers.

"You will, uh, excuse, Mr Mycroft Holmes…" Anthea began, as she too began her retreat from the conference room.

"Whatever is the matter with him?" asked another of the ministers.

Anthea smiled weakly and cleared her throat.

"His niece has had a cold, and he'd like to see that she recovers swiftly. Good day to you all." she answered, before scurrying after her boss as she began making calls to arrange for his jet.


End file.
